The Road Less Travelled
by nericearren
Summary: When forgiveness is easy, it's the aftermath that is hard. Levy should hate Gajeel, but she doesn't-in fact, she just might love him. But even though Levy can see past the monstrous things he did, there are others who aren't so open-minded.
1. Chapter 1

_She thought she would hate him. She thought she _should_ hate him, for what he did, for who he was. She thought that she would hate him forever, never forgive him for the way he made her knees weak-and not in the good way-her hands falter, her thoughts stumble over each other in terrified circles. She had never been so afraid before as she had been facing him, and she thought she would never get over it._

_ She was wrong._

_ It was impossible to hate him, when she saw his face when he thought no one was watching. When she followed him to see him punch a wall in total frustration; she saw, then, that he was as human as she was, capable of hurting and being hurt both, and she saw, impossibly, that he'd been hurt by the stunned and outraged reactions of her guildmates. He wanted to be accepted-he had a vulnerability-and then she could no longer bring herself to hate him. _

_ In fact, she fell in love with him a little, then._

_ It was a small thing, a flutter, the same soft feeling she got from being around her teammates and friends-the feeling of being protected and wanting to protect. To feel such a thing towards such a monster was incredible, was unbelievable, and yet she could no more stop the feeling than she could stop the fear that still sank into her bones when she saw him, even if it was just his back. It was more than the physical differences between the two of them; there was something totally wild about him. He wasn't just out of control-something inside of him was totally _unhinged. _It was scary-it was exhilarating._

_ She thought she would hate him._

Levy drew her knees up to her chest and shuddered, looking around the half-dark room and squeezing her eyes shut before deciding that having them open was far less scary. The lingering traces of the nightmare still clung to her like a relative that refuses to leave after the holidays. She couldn't shake that after-dream, surreal feeling that none of this was really happening and in seconds she was about to be terrified by something else. She felt exposed, as if her skin was raw and thin and one good shot would get through to her heart. She reached for her phone, but her hand hesitated, hovering over the landline like a bird skittish to land. Who would she call? How would she justify it? What would she even say?

A glance at her clock, which read 5:57 in the morning, decided her, and she drew her hand back under the covers, pulling them tight around her chin. She knew that getting up would help her-the sense of normality of her morning routine would throw the last vestiges of terror from her mind and clear her head for the day to come: worries about money, getting stronger, and the overall outcome of who she was going to be would come back to the foreground, and the mystical, nameless emotions that remained even after her dream had gone would fade back into the box they belonged in, not to come out until her next fear-filled night.

A knock-more of a bang, really-on her door proved to be the fright she was waiting for, and she bolted up in bed with a small shriek, all of her terrors in that instant coming to a head. Then it passed, and a gruff voice came, "Hey? Y'alright in there?"

She didn't recognize it, but that in and of itself was no cause for fear. The small apartment complex she stayed in was run down, an in-between place for newcomers or college students. People were always coming and going, to the point where Levy had ceased to know her neighbors. She was the only one who stayed. She actually _liked_ her tiny, two-room space, even with its molding ceiling and over-sensitive fire alarm. The view from her picture window was unbeatable, her kitchen space was big enough to handle dinner for her whole team, there were no dark corners for monsters to lurk, and, best of all, Fairy Tail was not three blocks away.

"Cause I heard some screechin' . . ." the voice went on, sounding more annoyed than concerned.

"Sorry! I'm f-fine!" Levy called back. She was still in bed, she realized, feeling ridiculous, in her light summer nightgown, yelling through the door at some stranger. She had even stuttered.

There was a creak of wood, as if the person on the other side had leaned against her door, and then he(the voice was too deep to be female), spoke again, sounding somehow closer. "Ya don't sound it." The speaker had a drawl to his tone, as if he was too lazy to bother speaking properly, but the lilt to his words suggested it wasn't an affected accent so much as the only way he knew how to speak.

"I said I'm fine! Go away!" Her fear had brought on unease, which brought on some measure of shame, which caused her to snap. She could have sworn she heard a low chuckle before heavy, thudding footfalls went a few paces away from her and then a door slammed. It sounded as if whoever had come to check on her was the tenant to her left-the one on her right was a partier, and probably not home yet from his revels.

Shaken back to reality, Levy got out of bed, made herself breakfast, and planned her day. As she had thought, the more normal she acted, the better she felt, so that by the time she was dressed and ready to go to the guild, the nightmare was no more than a memory.

She paused on her way down the hall by the door next to hers. She felt a little sheepish at her reaction to the man, when he'd been trying to do something nice . . . or had he? Suspicion pricked the edges of her mind. In this day and age, you could never be too careful about who you invited to consort with you. He could have been trying to get in and take advantage of her; he could be some kind of pervert, in which case she would be better off just going on her way. But-if he was just some harmless old man, or a guy with a good heart(ha!)or something, than just passing by without thanks would be rude. Besides, she could protect herself.

On the other hand, that was what a lot of girls thought, until they turned out to be victims. Her thoughts going around in circles, Levy hovered too long by the door. From inside, the same man from before yelled out, "Well, what t'hell is it? I paid my damn rent!"

Levy winced, then, inexplicably, giggled. "Um-it's Levy. Levy McGarden." she called back, trying to keep the laugh from sounding in her words. "I was-from earlier. I mean, I'm your neighbor. I just wanted to, um, thank you for checking on me, and apologize for being rude."

There was a pause. Then- "Levy, huh? What kinda dumbass name is that?"

Levy almost couldn't believe her ears-then she was seized, once again, with the desire to laugh. "What kind of way is that to greet someone who came to thank you?" she shot back, and this time didn't bother keeping the humor from her voice. It wasn't in her nature to get upset over rudeness, and she got the feeling, even though she'd never seen the guy, that his bark was bigger than his bite. Or was it louder? How _did_ that saying go . . . ? Musing, Levy leaned back against the wall opposing the door and considered it. She really should know-words were her forte, after all. But she didn't have to know _everything_, right? If she was aware of something she didn't know, though, wasn't it her responsibility to learn?

"Ya gonna stand out there forever, or are ya gonna come in?" the man on the other side of the door finally said, and Levy realized that she had been thinking for a while, long enough for an awkward pause to stretch through the equally awkward conversation.

"I think I'll stay out here, thanks." she called back. "I mean, I don't even know your name-oh!" She remembered her original purpose. "Actually, I have to go, now, anyway. Maybe I'll talk to you later!" Now late, she sprinted down the hall, just barely hearing the "Whatever, see ya." that followed her.


	2. Chapter 2

Gajeel kicked back, relaxed, let himself drift back into sleep as the tiny footsteps pattered down the hall. What cute sounding feet . . . if you went for that sort of thing. Cute, that is. Personally, he preferred his girls rough and wild-but girls meant trouble, and he was aiming to stay out of trouble for the time being. At least until he settled into Fairy Tail. He intended to lie low for a while, only go to the guild to collect a mission when he had to, not insult anybody important, that kind of thing. It wasn't that he was scared-he would bet anything that he could become the freaking guildmaster within the week if he set his mind to it-it was that he didn't want to scare anyone. He wanted to give doing the right thing a shot, even if just for a little while. Why not? It wasn't like he had anything else to do-and playing for the good guys had its perks. The money was less, but there were no bothersome visits from police, or do-gooders banging down his door for a fight. So far he was actually being left in peace, and that was just how he liked it.

Besides, now he had time to do things like think over his neighbor. The scream that had woken him from sleep the first time had been shrill and high, and for a second he had thought it was a child's cry. That had brought him charging to the door of its origination, before it occurred to him that, even if it was a child, _his_ appearance would bring no comfort. After talking, he'd realized that the occupant of the apartment next to him was a girl-a tiny girl, by the sound and smell of her. Even her name-Levy-was somehow delicate. It was enough to make him sick.

He couldn't help feeling as though he'd heard the name before, too, but where? Eh, who cared. Gajeel lazily whistled through his teeth as he lay back on his bed. This wasn't a half-bad place to crash-there was a kitchen, and a window that looked out over the main square of Magnolia. The landlady had a side business of washing laundry, so he didn't have to rub his hands raw trying to figure out what constituted as "clean" for his mostly gray and black wardrobe-he really wasn't cut out for that domestic crap, anyway-and there was a bar down the street if he ever got desperate enough-which he probably would, if the guy on the other side of Levy didn't quit his "college party boy" attitude.

There was only one thing to mar his perfect happiness-Gajeel didn't enjoy being happy. Happy meant _bored_, and a bored Dragon Slayer was a dangerous one. He didn't want to just sit back and cool his heels-that was the downfall of even the best of them-and he couldn't stop his feelings of restlessness when he just lazed about.

"Damn!" he growled, sitting back up in bed. It was no use. He wasn't going back to sleep now. Having nothing better to do, he finally decided to head over to the guild earlier than he'd intended and see if there was a mission hard enough for him to sink his teeth in.

The request board. Levy looked at it, but nothing jumped out at her. In fact, there was nothing in the world she wanted to do less right then than take a request. Not only were her teammates temporarily out of commission, thanks to a misplaced shot on their last job, but she was encompassed by a feeling of total listlessness. She would almost swear that when she looked over her head, she saw a rain cloud.

"Nothing looks good?" Mirajane asked. Levy jumped. She should have been used to the older girl's stealth by then, but she wasn't. She doubted anyone could ever get used to Mirajane. "I don't know." she shrugged. "Off day, I guess."

"Well, have a drink," Mira smiled. "Socialize a bit, and maybe something will come to you." There was nothing in Mirajane's world, it seemed, that couldn't be solved by either friends or a beer. Levy smiled back, but only half-heartedly took the advice. She didn't feel like socializing, either.

She couldn't say what the feeling was, only that it nagged at her until her feelings themselves were frayed and about to snap. When Lucy slid into the seat next to her with an expression of exhaustion that mirrored Levy's own frustrations, she was torn between bursting into tears or yelling until her throat was raw. Lucy wordlessly slammed her head down on the bar, which temporarily drew Levy's mind away from herself.

"Whoa, what's the matter?" It wasn't unlike Lucy to be dramatic-but she usually drew the line at personal harm. "I want to kill him." Lucy mumbled into the table. "Ask me how many hours of sleep I got last night."

"How many-" Levy began hesitantly.

"ONE!" Lucy shouted, catching the attention of a few of the other guild members. When they realized it was only Lucy, they went back to their drinks. "One stinking hour of stinking sleep before that-that-that-_thing_ and his infernal _cat_ were in and out of my apartment like it's some kind of hotel! God only knows what the neighbors think!"

"Probably that you run a brothel." Mirajane said cheerfully as she plunked fresh drinks in front of both Levy and Lucy. Her smile was in direct opposition to her words. Lucy glared at the other mage before slamming her forehead back against the wood of the bar. "I'm going to kill him!" she repeated.

"She likes Natsu, right?" Mirajane asked Levy in a state whisper, causing the other girl to chuckle. "Definitely likes him." Levy confirmed. "Might even say love."

"Shut UP!" Lucy bellowed, only to deflate seconds later. After a few more minutes of the same type of dramatics, she gathered the energy to sit up straight and down her beer, mumbling to herself as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, ". . . like . . . spiky-haired . . . no way in hell . . ."

Levy rested her chin in her hands, raised her eyebrows, and was about to comment when Lucy slammed her mug down and gasped. "Oh my-I can't believe it!" she shrieked.

This time, the rest of the guild shared in Lucy's hysteria, because at that second, a dark shadow had thrown itself into the doorway. All over the room, people were staring, whispering in hushed tones, slowly lowering their mugs to their tables. From somewhere to the left, someone dropped their plate, and the shatter was loud and sharp in the sudden silence. "What is _he_ doing, showing up _here_?" Lucy cried out, shock evident in her voice, and then everyone was talking, looking away, doing everything in their power to ignore the giant of a man who walked calmly into the guild hall as if the whispers had nothing to do with him. Levy swallowed hard when he stepped into the light, and then mimicked her guildmates in turning back to her drink. Only Lucy kept on staring; apparently Natsu's famous lack of diplomacy had rubbed off on her. "Seriously, how can he be allowed in the guild? After what he _did_?!" Lucy said, in a more hushed tone.

Without looking up, Levy replied, "I'm aware of that."

She felt Lucy's eyes on her; felt her friend's mortification. Levy's hands were shaking, but she balled them into fists and forced them to be still. Even just knowing that Gajeel was in the same room as her was enough to send her into a panic attack-but she just kept looking at those tiny amber bubbles in her beer and telling herself that she was far, far away.

"I'm-sorry." Lucy choked out. "Shoot, Levy, I didn't mean-I know that you-"

Ignoring her, Levy wheeled around, steeled herself, and slid off of her stool. Once on the ground, her legs debated whether or not they would support her. She grabbed unceremoniously at the stool before the shaking abruptly stopped and she was striding, purposefully, almost fearlessly, towards the request board, where the immense man was peering at notices as if he couldn't make heads or tails of them.

"Ex-excuse me." she stammered, feeling as though the eyes of the whole guild were on them-which was the case. All of Fairy Tail knew what Gajeel had done to Levy and her team. All wanted to know what she wanted from him. And what he was doing here.

He turned to look down at her, and Levy suddenly had the impression that she was looking up at a mountain. It was just the physical difference of height-his face held an expression that told her she was far beneath him. He looked like a scary, iron-studded, red-eyed god-and not the benevolent kind. The guild mark of Fairy Tail was evident on his bicep, and it spoke volumes. Levy didn't have time to feel betrayed by the Master; she was too busy trying to get a hold on herself.

She ground her fingernails into her palms, which just made her tenser. She forced herself to uncurl her fingers, relax, and look the man in the eye. He was just a man, after all. He couldn't hurt her, not in front of all these witnesses. Hopefully.

"Um-excuse me." she repeated, and the barest flicker of impatience crossed his impassive face. She had said that already. She was wasting his time.

Well, so what?! Levy visibly shuddered as anger overtook her. She was not three feet from the man who had beaten her to a pulp and nailed her to a tree, humiliated her and her team, and then turned around and joined her guild? She glared up at Gajeel with brown eyes that were no longer warm or timid. "How-how could you?" she finally choked out, voice cracking.

"Could I what?" he grunted.

"Don't tell me you forgot!" Levy yelled, and now even the most drunk wizard in the darkest corner of the guild was paying attention. "You can tell me you're not sorry and you can tell me you don't care, but don't you dare say you forgot! Don't say you forgot what you did to my team!"

A tiny, tiny hint of recognition showed up in the mix of annoyance and confusion in his eyes. His muscles were taught, as if he was ready for an attack, but his gaze as it traveled over her was languid and his response was slow in coming. "So I attacked ya. What's it to ya?" He sounded-impossibly-familiar, but Levy was too upset to consider this.

"I want to know why." she said, fighting the way her face scrunched up as she tried to prevent herself from crying right there, in front of the whole guild. "Why did you do it? How could you be so _cruel_?" Her voice rose, shrilly, but more steady now. She wasn't just speaking for herself any longer. "How could someone as cruel as you, someone who did everything that you did, join _our guild_?! Join _Fairy Tail?!_" And her screams were joined by other screams, by taunts, outraged voices, a few thrown mugs. People telling him that he wasn't wanted. To get out-that a monster like him had no place in their guild. Mirajane, usually the peacemaker, stood by and watched, but whether she approved or disapproved of the guild's judgment was impossible to tell. Her face was expressionless, with only her shadowed eyes reflecting the troubled spirit of the guild.


	3. Chapter 3

Gajeel barely flinched when the first mug hit, ignored the yells directed at him, and stared at Levy, who was still standing in front of him-trembling, crying, but determinedly looking at him with big, brown eyes. She really wanted an answer. Unlike others who had confronted him before, just wanting to express their rage or let off steam, this strange, small, quiet girl really wanted an answer. She wanted to understand, to know, and(maybe)even to give him a chance to _not_ be as awful as the guild obviously thought.

It brought him up short. It made him _want_ to tell her, but that was impossible. There was no reason. He had just done it, because it was a warning, because it was expected of him, because it had suited his needs. He had just done it, because it was something that had needed to be done, and he was the only one with the guts to do it. And how could he explain that? How could he tell the tiny girl in front of him that he had barely seen her or her team as human beings at all, just things to throw around to get Fairy Tail's attention? She would know, then, exactly what kind of man he was, and-irrational though it was-he didn't want her to. He didn't want to hear her call him a monster.

He didn't know much about relationships, about people in general-about himself, even-but he knew the rules of honorable combat, and if this was a fight(albeit with words), he had to fight fair. He had to say the words, even if it revealed his true colors, even if he didn't want to. He had to say the truth. He could only own up to what he did, not change it. "I just did, 'kay?" he got out around a throat full of metaphorical iron nails, and she flinched, eyes filling with tears.

"Yeah, yeah," he raised his voice. "I'm a terrible person! But how many o'you have done the same exact freaking thing? How many o'you have-"

"What? Nailed someone to a tree?" someone shouted out.

"Don't you try to take the moral high ground, buddy!" someone else called.

Gajeel shook his head. So much for trying to lay low. He could have dug a hole in the ground and lay in it, and he still wouldn't be low enough to escape the notice of this crowd.

Whatever-he didn't need some pansy-ass guild anyway; and he didn't need to feel sorry for the girl who was now freely crying before him. He bent down to her level, face inches from hers, pretended he didn't feel a prickle of conscience when she shrunk back, and hissed, "I did what I hadta ta survive. Ya stand there and tell me y'haven't done the same? Bullshit. You go over to this board every day, lookin' for an excuse to pick a fight, same as me. Get over it, or die. I don't care." He raised his voice again. "Y'know, all I have now is this guild, which some wimp of a Slayer told me was all open n' friendly and great. From what I've seen, though," He looked around the room. Some people met his gaze, with blank stares or grimaces. Far more others dropped their eyes to the floor, making him grin sardonically. " Family, my ass. This place is a hella lot worse than any Dark Guild."

He cleared out, before his words turned to blows. He was sick of this goody-two-shoes act already. He didn't have time for people who said one thing and acted another. He didn't have time to admit that, somewhere, deep down in the pit of his lima-bean sized, shriveled-up heart, he had actually hoped that this time would be different. That he would find comrades who weren't jealous or afraid of him. To admit that would be humiliating, because it would be to admit that he was human-that he got lonely, scared, reckless. That he had reasons for doing the things that he did, and that just wouldn't do. It suited Gajeel better to be a monster, to be the one that everyone was jealous of or scared of. It suited him to not care, even if his nonchalant act was cracking with every step he took away from the guild.

He kept telling himself that he didn't _need_ them, just like he didn't _need_ to stay-but the fact remained that he was choosing to, and that made all the difference in the world. It meant that he cared, and caring meant that he could get hurt after all.

And there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it.

"Get over it, or die. I don't care."

Levy trembled. How could he say something like that? That was her reason? That was the grand secret behind Gajeel's red eyes? He "just did"? She wanted to cry. Heck, she _was_ crying, and Lucy was patting her back, and the whole guild was rallying on her behalf about Gajeel being a monster, and Levy felt suffocated. They didn't get it, all of them blindly hating. They were no better than Gajeel, in the end, and as much as she hated to be sympathetic towards him, it infuriated her the way that her guildmates condemned the slayer without a thought. Yes, it had been horrible what he did, and yes, he was undoubtedly a cruel creature; but what use was it to let his hate infect them all? Hate only bred more hate, in a cycle that would just wind up with everyone hurt.

She broke free of her friends and ran out of the guild, her feet turning instinctively towards home; to her small, safe apartment where her gruff neighbor would bang on her door at seven in the morning to make sure she was okay and the landlady nosed into everybody's business and gave the tenant in apartment 4-2 a hard time about being a womanizer. She wanted to be there, with its cozy lights and stove bubbling with ramen or some other instant food that was totally against her diet-she wanted to lose herself in her library of books and forget that there was even a world at all.

Fate, it seemed, had other plans.

She heard the bang before she registered Gajeel's presence; catching her breath, she automatically slid to a halt, ducking behind a light pole. It was childish; it was pointless; but it made her feel better.

He wasn't looking her way, at any rate. His head was down, fist still outstretched towards the brick wall. Blood trickled down his knuckles, a vivid red reminder that he was a human being, not a giant of iron and smoke. "I can smell ya, y'know." he grated out.

Levy crept out from behind the pole, and gulped. Unlike when she faced him earlier, she wasn't shaking, but her body had broken out in a cold sweat, and she felt raw and exposed in the nearly empty square. "You just 'did it'?" she blurted out. "What kind of lame-ass reason is that to do something?"

He shook his head. His lack of fearsome response bolstered her courage. "You should have a set reason to do something," she lectured, having the uncanny feeling that she was talking to Jet or Droy about some stupid thing or other that they'd did in their latest effort to impress her. "Otherwise, what's the point of doing anything at all?" She was rationalizing, in her own way-taking her trauma over Gajeel's punishments and locking them away in a figurative box, falling back on her usual patterns to fool her conscious mind into thinking that she was actually starting, just a little bit, to forgive him.

Gajeel looked up at her. "Exactly." he rasped. "What's the point in doin' anythin'?"

His voice was low, gravelly, and she placed it with surprising alacrity.

"That was you-from this morning!" she gasped. _Of course_ he had to be her neighbor. It was as if the universe was telling her _oh, no, honey-you can't move past this. Not yet_.

"Yeah." he grunted, gaze going to his boots, almost as if he was embarrassed, though it wasn't like it was his fault. Then his eyes slid back up to her, something like curiosity in his expression. "Ya havin' nightmares . . . about me?"

"No." she lied bravely. Somehow, it was getting easy to just talk to him normally. The hate and rage that she'd felt were melting away, replaced by a softer emotion . . . compassion. The man in front of her looked beaten, and badly, and she was willing to bet that her guildmates' reactions to his presence were bothering him more than he'd admit. But maybe she was just projecting. "Bananas, actually."

"What?" He looked at her like she was crazy. She herself was beginning to worry. Denial could only last her so long.

"Bananas." she babbled. "I have a childhood fear of bananas. Completely irrational, I'll grant you, but nothing terrifies me more than those rubbery yellow skins . . ." and she shuddered theatrically, something she hadn't done in years.

Gajeel burst out laughing. Like him, it was too loud and too vigorous, and far too harsh. Abrasive, but heartfelt. Real. It was a nice laugh, and another reminder that he was human. "Is everyone in this damn town totally nuts?" he cackled, sounding more delighted with this prospect than incredulous.

"It's a real fear." she defended. "Scientific name and everything. Bananaphobia."

He laughed even harder. "Ya gotta be shittin' me!"

Levy was startled to find that she was starting to like this conversation. "No, I'm serious. Well, not about having bananaphobia-" He snorted every time she said the word. "-but about it being a real fear. Bananaphobia is-are you even listening?"

He was doubled over, holding his stomach, practically shaking with his roars. It was safe to say that he wasn't listening. Levy stood back and waited for his amusement to cease. She herself didn't find anything funny, but it was kind of nice, pretending like they were friends.

Friends. Could she really be friends with a monster?

Her gut was telling her _yes_, even as her brain was screaming that she was an idiot who should know better than to trust him. But how could someone who knew how to laugh that hard be so bad? It was hard to connect this almost vulnerable Gajeel with the Dragon Slayer whose cold eyes had been the last thing she'd thought she'd ever see in this life. The eyes that still haunted her dreams.

Gajeel pulled himself together after a period of time, straightened up, and looked at her. "Why're you here?" he asked, sounding a little out of breath and a lot despairing of her common sense.

"I live around here." she said, and he rolled his eyes. "No shit, Sherlock. I figgered that out when I smelled y'at the guild earlier."

Levy refrained from commenting.

"I mean-why talk t'me?" He had dropped his easy demeanor almost instantly, and now looked quite serious. "Why not give me a wide berth an' go on up to bed? Ya won't gain anythin' from it."

Levy folded her hands behind, stalling. Why? She didn't know, any more than he knew why he'd crucified her. Sometimes people just did things, because they were people, and human, and they didn't have a reason. That didn't make it okay, but it happened.

But she _did_ have a reason, didn't she? Something, an idea, that had been lurking in the back of her mind since he first answered her question with those hard, hard eyes.

"You . . ." she began, carefully aligning the words in her head before speaking. "That is, I thought it was sad. What you said, about not having a particular reason. I thought that someone who thinks like that-doing what they have to do to survive-doesn't really know what it's like to be in a family like Fairy Tail." she clenched her fists. "Just saying, 'I am who I am' isn't enough, because people are _never_ that simple. And I thought-I thought that you, with that kind of perspective, has to be really lonely. There was never anyone to say 'this is right' or 'this is wrong', and to show you that there are things more important than just surviving."

"That so?" he was looking at her, now. Looking at her like he hadn't really done so before, like he was recognizing that she was an equal. The intensity in his gaze was heady, making her slightly dizzy and out of breath.

"Yes." she told him. "Things like living."

"Like bein' able t'look in a mirror wit'out wantin' to smash my own head in?" he wanted to know. "Because, um-that's what it's like for me. Every day since . . . since I did that to ya." Levy guessed that this was the closest thing to an apology she was likely to get. Gajeel was deliberately staring at his boots, taking slow, deep breaths. He didn't look upset, exactly, but there was a faint pink tinge to his cheeks. "Y'better not tell anyone I got this sappy." he warned.

Levy pressed one finger to her lips. "It's a secret. I promise."


	4. Chapter 4

Damn, he wished she wasn't so cute.

It was hard enough back when he didn't know jack about her, but now that she was here, standing not three feet from him, making him laugh about freakin' _bananas_ of all things, it was all he could do not to spill his guts to her like some pathetic jerkwad with spaghetti for insides. Every gesture or word from her was precise, delicate, and so self-contained that it made him want to scream. What he wouldn't do to get her undone.

If you went for that kind of thing.

Which he didn't.

Gajeel had said enough, he thought, after his little admission about mirrors and head-smashing. She knew that he felt bad, seemed to have accepted it, end of story. He could now resume cruising along in the life of a Patented Good Guy, knowing that if he could win _her_ over, it wouldn't be too long before he could gain the trust of the rest of the guild. His faith was restored, let us now resume our regularly scheduled programming.

He didn't need to be _friends_ with her, or anything.

She said he was lonely, but that wasn't the case. That wasn't why he and Levy somehow ended up in his apartment, making dinner.

To be sure, he didn't know how it happened. One moment it was morning and he was storming out of the guild; next thing he knew, the sun was setting and the two of them had been talking for hours. Gajeel, on his pride as a man, did not _talk_. He grunted, he listened to Juvia's outbursts about her lord Gray, he traded insults with anyone stupid enough to pick a fight with him-but he did not talk.

Except to Levy, it seemed, who was so much smarter than he was that he should have felt severely outclassed. There was no denying that she was entirely too good for him, yet it was surprisingly easy to have a conversation with her. He'd have to watch out-she'd be calling him up to gossip, soon, and he didn't want to be anyone's as-good-as-a-girl-friend. And, after a few hours of being with her, he was prepared to admit to himself that he didn't just want to be her _friend_, either. Even though they'd technically just met. And he'd stapled her to a tree. And, let's not forget, she already had two boyfriends(he was still unclear on that particular situation). She wasn't even his type.

But, dammit, she was _cute_. Irresistibly so.

She'd grabbed his hand, all distressed, fussing over his bleeding knuckles like she was his mother, and had insisted on taking him up to his apartment to bandage it, even when he'd insisted it was all right. He didn't want her in his space-it was too personal. He didn't want her caring for him, for the same reason. But she had, and there wasn't a thing he could say to dissuade her.

"I don't think "burnt to a crisp' is what the directions say." Levy said lightly, jolting him out of his daze. Gajeel jumped to attention to find gray curls of smoke rising from underneath the tortilla he'd been frying; alarmed, he pulled it off with his bare hand.

Idiot.

Idiot, moron, fool, stupid, stupid, stupid-Gajeel let loose an internal stream of profanities as the backs of his fingers came in contact with the hot iron frying pan. Outwardly, he just dropped the tortilla and flinched back, wincing. "Shit!"

Levy cried out in alarm. He'd dropped the thing straight on the hot burner, where it promptly burst into flames. He thrust himself instinctively between her and the fire, grabbing the tortilla with his twice-injured right hand and throwing it into the trash can.

"Don't!" Levy shouted, but it was too late. Okay, so he hadn't exactly thought that through, he considered as the entire contents of the can burst into flames.

"Stay calm!" he ordered, feeling three seconds shy of panic himself. Levy had the presence of mind to turn off the oven as he grappled for the fire extinguisher on the far wall. By the time he'd managed to douse the flames with the foam, the emergency system for the apartment had activated; alarms blared and, just as he lowered the half-empty can, the sprinklers on the ceiling burst into life.

Levy shrieked as she was blasted with water, and Gajeel had to fight the urge to throw himself protectively over her-it was just water. Instead, he grabbed her arm, his injured fingers slipping across her slick skin, and they made their soggy way out into the hall, where all of the residents of floor two were making their way to the fire exits in a less than graceful fashion. Gajeel had to resist the impulse to cover Levy's ears against the swearing; this protection thing was seriously impeding normal thought. Rapidly growing inside him was this notion that he _had_ to keep Levy safe-from _everything_. Seriously, there was no way that the matronly landlady or over-helpful firefighters posed her any threat, but that didn't stop him from answering all of the questions directed at her, didn't stop him from having the overbearing need to monopolize her time.

Everyone was crowded out on the street, and Gajeel couldn't resist anymore-he slipped one long arm around Levy's far-too-slim-for-his-comfort shoulders to prevent her from being jostled by the people around them. She barely shot him a glance, and he wasn't surprised. Girls like her were used to being treated like princesses. He was the one who was thrown by his own gesture-he didn't do nice. Or princesses.

"Calm down! Calm down!" one of the firefighters was shouting, but no one paid any heed until the landlady hopped up on the curb and bellowed, "Pipe down, you rabble!"

Everyone stilled. Levy nestled into Gajeel's side, and he had to force himself to stare straight ahead, certain that she would notice the burning in his ears and neck. Her short hair prickled against his bare skin.

"Now who the hell caused all of this?" the landlady hollered, apparently speaking for the firefighters.

Levy pressed closer, so that her body was practically melded to his. "Are we going to get into trouble?" she whispered, her eyes glued to the scene in front of them.

" A'course not." he blustered, bolstered by the feeling of her tiny body dependant on his. It could really get a guy high-but not him. He wasn't moved, not one puny bit. "Ya had nothin' t' do wit' it, leastwise." he amended, determined not to surrender common sense because of a pretty face and wide, quivering, brown doe eyes.

"Apartment 3-2," one of the firefighters was saying. "The source appears to be in apartment 3-2."

"All right, then-who's in 3-2?" the landlady stomped her foot, as if she didn't already have everyone's full attention. Gajeel leaned down to whisper in Levy's ear, ignoring his impulse to nibble at it while he was there(just to see how she'd react), "Ya'd think she'd know her own tenants."

She giggled, and Gajeel slipped his arm from around her, unwillingly exposing her to the hoard around them. He raised his hand, feeling like a tool. "Was me." he confessed. "Got enthusiastic wit' my flippin'. Damn thing landed in the trash."

Levy looked at him, startled, as all eyes turned to the idiot who thought he was a kitchen casanova. Normally, this would bother him, but knowing that at least one person wasn't judging him at the moment did something powerful in the way of calming him down. He shrugged as if to say, "what can you do?", sheepish over his own mistake. He hoped he conveyed enough pitiful-single-guy-who-can't-cook vibe that he wouldn't be evicted on the spot.

Apparently, he did, because after a few cursory questions, the firefighters all disappeared and the landlady merely informed him that he would be hearing from her insurance agent. Loudly complaining about the smell, the idiot, and life in general, the rest of the tenants of the second floor made their way back inside, leaving Gajeel and Levy almost exactly where they started out earlier.

Levy glanced up at him, then down at her feet. She looked uncomfortable, now that they were alone.

"Well, damn." Gajeel said, hoping to break the ice. He wasn't used to feeling awkward-considering most of his conversations involved money and were over in ten seconds. "I'm still hungry."

She giggled, almost unwillingly, eyes briefly flicking up from her bare feet to meet his gaze. "I'm so sorry about all of this."

"Wasn't yer fault." he grunted, swinging his arms behind his head in a stretch. He yawned, eyeing the almost-completely-gone sun with apprehension. "Think t'guild would let me sleep there t'night?"

"Oh-um-" Levy stammered, her face turning pink. She wound her hands together in front of her. One of her feet tapped against the other.

So. Freaking. Cute.

He would bet anything that she was fun to mess with, too-but he shouldn't be thinking of things like that. Not when he had only just gotten her to forgive him.

"I guess you could stay with me." Levy was saying. "It's only just next door."

What?

He couldn't have heard her right.

"What?" he articulated, barely. Her blush deepened. "You don't have to!" she cried. "It was just an idea . . ."

Gajeel shook his head, clearing, and managed, "Yeah. Whatever."

Levy, who had still been babbling, trailed off and went still. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. S'what I said."

"Um. Okay then." She didn't look sure-hell, he wasn't sure, either. But it was done, now, just like everything else in their relationship, and, also just like everything else, they would have to live with it.

He gulped. Funny how he could go up against mages ten times more powerful then him armed only with a smile; and the thought of walking into a teenage girl's apartment had him beat.


End file.
